


Of Course, My Dear

by A_Smol_Queer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, John - Freeform, John Watson - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Sherlock - Freeform, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, almost unrelated but not quite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-13 03:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14741297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Smol_Queer/pseuds/A_Smol_Queer
Summary: Johnlock fluff. So much fluff.





	1. Welcome Home

The silence filled the space in between their bodies. John, breathing heavily from running up the stairs, tried to stifle his laughter as he closed the gap between them quickly.

"Good to see you, Sherlock."

It had been several days since the time they were last in the same room. Sherlock had a case, and John trusted no one with Rosie. The hug was tight, nearly choking John as the taller man attempted to squeeze him closer and closer. No other noise stirred 221B, only the quiet shuffle of cloth against cloth. As Sherlock released him, John smiled, standing on tiptoe. A quick kiss, and then back down. Sherlock smiled. Not one of his fake smiles, the ones that didn't show in his eyes, the ones he released as soon as the person turned away. Sherlock was the one to turn away this time. 

John gently pushed his face the rest of the way around, taking Sherlock's hand and leading him into the flat. Rosie was sleeping in John's previous bedroom upstairs, John now moved into Sherlock's room. John flopped down onto his chair, Sherlock preparing tea. The smaller man sighed, looking out of the window. The day was, as always, rainy. The scent of wet concrete and the streets of London mingled together, seeping through cracks in the walls of the apartment. The sound of boiling water dampened the rain, followed by a crash and low swearing.

Soon another pot of water was on the stove, John chuckling to no one but himself. The tea was soon prepared and delivered, along with a kiss on the head. They sipped their tea in silence, admiring the view.

Rosie began to cry. John jumped up, but Sherlock beat him to it. He pushed John down with a firm arm, holding his hand on John's chest.

"Stay." John was curious, and then John was mad. Why should he be treated like a  _dog_? He most certainly was not, the last time he checked. He began to put his mug down, brow furrowed, but then decided against it. He trusted Sherlock with his life and more. This would be fine. 

John retuned to sipping his tea, watching rain fall.


	2. Date Night?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is battling between leaving Rosie alone and spending time with Sherlock.

Sherlock paced the floor of 221B Baker Street, like he had done many times before. Sherlock had made tea, like many times before. Just one problem. He needed to ask someone out.

This would normally not be a problem. If it was for a case, he could seduce as well as deduce, easy as determining someone's profession and salary. Although he didn't enjoy it at all, he could take someone to bed after getting them utterly sloshed, then drug them. In the morning, they were gone. Sherlock assumed that normally, the drugging was where the sex happened. Of course, he was just guessing. Sherlock had never participated in a one-night stand, and he never intended to. 

No, this wasn't that simple. Not in the slightest. This was John. This was the most important relationship of his lifetime. Of course this had to be complicated. After the death of his wife, he had always been protective of Rosie. She was the only thing John had left, after all. But yet why did he do this? It made everything so difficult! More importantly, how did he get John away from her? Sherlock had tried several kinds of tactics before, from cases to outright kidnapping attempts. Of course, John had no idea it was him. He thought it was a plot by the Kray Twins. Not sure how he believed such a conspicuous claim, but it worked. After all these years in the Army, he should be able to spot a bluff, especially when it was sleeping in his arms. Nothing more should be expected from a small brain, but...

Not John. He was different. Sherlock was so sure everyone was inferior, but yet John defied the norm. He had taught Sherlock again and again that simpler methods were better, that and so much more. Sherlock needed to visit his mind palace later. Asking John out was more pressing. 

It would be easier, yes, because they had been in a relationship for some time, and because they lived together. Rosie was the variable he needed to subtract from the equation, briefly of course.

While Sherlock concocted a plan, John jogged downstairs, back from taking care of Rosie. She was down for a nap, finally. John hugged him from behind, Sherlock melting into the embrace. John took his hand, leading him to the chairs. Sherlock held his face, kissing his forehead, then his lips. The gap between them closed, John's hands on Sherlock's hips. 

What was supposed to be just a quick sign of affection turned to something more passionate as the kiss deepened. Sherlock sat down, John leaning in over him. For once, Sherlock was shorter. As John's hands crept up, Sherlock's slid down. Their hands had switched. John chuckled into Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock broke the kiss.

"What's wrong?" He asked. 

"We switched." John snickered. Sherlock grinned. "What about dinner tonight?" John smiled wistfully, shaking his head. "I've got to look after Rosie." Sherlock pouted. John sucked in a breath. "Maybe..." John trailed off. Sherlock raised his eyebrows. Perhaps this wasn't as bad as he thought. Maybe he could be reasoned with. "Maybe later." His eyebrows fell. He pouted again. John sighed, looking away. He trotted up the stairs to check on Rosie. Sherlock huffed, staring at the wall. How could he get John to go out with him? A babysitter? Someone he trusted, perhaps Mrs. Hudson? A kidnapping attempt would be much more professional, but John had taught him that simple was better. Why hadn't he thought of this? Sherlock was getting rusty, he needed to do that later as well. He stored it in his mind palace, stepping over on lengthy strides to make tea. The rushing of the water was little more than a distant memory as Sherlock prepared to go downstairs.

Sherlock ascended the stairs, two cups of tea grasped in his sizable hands. He greeted John with a kiss on his head and a smile. "What if I got Mrs. Hudson to take care of her?" John turned to him, paused in the middle of feeding Rosie. "Brilliant." Sherlock raised his eyebrows, this time higher then before. "Really?" "Of course, my dear."


	3. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of last chapter, this time no Rosie ;P

John, wearing his signature jumper, stepped out of his room (it also happened to be Sherlock's as well). He sipped a cold cup of tea, sighing quietly. Cold tea he could stand, but it wasn't the most pleasant experience. Sherlock went in after him, ready to get dressed for that evening. John decided to warm up his tea in the microwave. He opened the door, grimacing as a pinky finger was discovered to be the sole occupant. John took out a pair of gloves he kept in the drawer, taking the misplaced body part and putting it in the fridge. He hoped it hadn't come from a living owner.

Sherlock finally exited their room, wearing a tight purple shirt. John huffed audibly, so much so that the tips of Sherlock's lips curled upward. Sherlock knew John liked that shirt. The microwave dinged noisily. Two hands laced themselves together.

 

The site they had chosen for date night was Hyde Park, which was (unsurprisingly) a park in London. It was ten, the darkness held high above like a velvet drape across the city, dampening activity and sound alike. John and Sherlock ambled aimlessly on the paths in and around the garden, enjoying the silence. No Ms. Hudson, no Rosie. Nothing but the two hands holding each other. 

The two men stopped on a hill overlooking a portion of the trees. "I love you." Sherlock said, looking at the moon. "I-I love you too, Sherlock." John replied, grinning from ear to ear.


	4. ROSIE!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idk I had no other ideas

"Sherlock! I need you!" John shouted from upstairs. Something about Rosie, presumably. Always something about Rosie. Sherlock huffed, stomping up the stairs. He entered the room, John staring at him desperately. "She's gone!" Sherlock sighed. That was it? He could have figured that out in seconds! He examined the room for a moment, taking the details in. John exited, searching with his EYES. How boring. Sherlock noted how the rug was pushed just barely out of place, a slight crease in the crib's fabric indicated an escape. She had most likely exited by climbing. 

A shout from John broke his train of thought. "Found her!" 

Sherlock replied, "Where?" John appeared, holding a giggling Rosie. "Stairs." Sherlock frowned. "Hmm. Should have known." John came closer, touching his face with his free hand. "No, you don't need to be perfect constantly, Sherlock. You don't need to. You're wonderful just the way you are." Sherlock knit his eyebrows, blushing. "I have to," He insisted. John shook his head, pulling him in for a hug, holding Rosie carefully between them. Sherlock stuttered, giving up and giving in.


	5. Sherlock Takes Care of Rosie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's in the title, ding dong + some sweet stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this is my way of saying stuff, if it wasn't obvious ;) ) (ooooo parentheses how creative)

Sherlock was sitting in Rosie's room, staring at the toddler inhabiting the crib. John had recently purchased a bed for her, spurred on by a recent incident (see last chapter). Rosie was found outside of her room, and John had decided that she was growing up and needed more room. Sherlock did not agree, so thus here he sat on top of the newly acquired bed, Rosie in the crib. He was watching her try to climb out currently, a very endearing performance if he did say so himself.

Sherlock stared on for several more minutes before overturning her efforts by swiftly tucking a hand under her escaping body and pushing her back into his other hand, lowering her back into the cradle. He sighed, going back to sitting on the bed and staring at Rosie. 

 

John came home from his chores, calling, "Sherlock? Are you home?" 

"Yes," came the reply from upstairs. John walked in to find Sherlock, still perched on the toddler's bed, still staring at Rosie. "Hello, John." Sherlock greeted as John stooped in for a quick kiss. Rosie started crying. It was feeding time. "Keep an eye on her while I get the formula, alright?" Sherlock nodded, yawning. "Tired?" John inquired. "Up all night, so unfortunately yes." John revised his plan. "I take care of Rosie, you sleep. Sound good?" Sherlock's nose wrinkled. "No. I don't need sleep." John sighed, pushing him off the bed and down the stairs. "Come on. To bed with you." Sherlock huffed loudly, desperately trying to evade the bedroom. John was successful in his attempts, shoving Sherlock on the covers, leaving him there to take care of Rosie. Sherlock fell asleep almost immediately.


	6. In The Middle of the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosie starts crying in the middle of the night

It was three AM and Rosie decided that she needed something, and that something was needed very urgently, as she was now screeching in the middle of the night. Both John and Sherlock were awakened by this disturbance now, John groaning and Sherlock sighing. As John opened his eyes, he quickly planted a kiss on his partner's cheek, beginning to untangle himself from Sherlock's grasp. Sherlock tightened his grip, humming annoyedly at John's supposedly feeble attempt at escape. John sighed, settling back into Sherlock's collar. Sherlock kissed the top of his head, pulling himself out of the bed. 

As Sherlock walked up the stairs to Rosie's room, her cries grew softer as she realized she was going to be taken care of. She was found on the floor, apparently fallen out of her bed in her attempt to escape. Perhaps she would understand that she couldn't fall out of the bed without getting hurt one day. He sighed, picking her up and putting her back into the bed, tucking her in under her blue dinosaur blankets. Rosie quickly settled in, falling into a steady breathing pattern. Sherlock sighed, heading back downstairs.

Sherlock embraced John closer, John snuggling into his chest. Sherlock smiled.


	7. Happy Anniversary, Sherlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look at the title, ding dong

John stepped out of 221B holding Sherlock's hand. It was John and Sherlock's six month anniversary, and John had decided to take his boyfriend out to dinner. As this was a formal affair, John had on more than his usual jumper. He had gone simple, however, deciding on a white collared shirt with a red tie. Sherlock was always dressed in his formal wear (exempt from the incident in Buckingham Palace), and so he looked functionally the same as always, a purple collared shirt and a dinner jacket. 

Sherlock waved for a taxi, John behind. A taxi soon pulled over, and they hopped in. Sherlock's hand slipped away from John's, and they stayed quiet the whole way to the restaurant. 

The cab pulled up to The Ledbury, and John took Sherlock's hand again, kissing him gently on the cheek.   
"Happy six-month, darling."  
Sherlock smiled. They entered The Ledbury.


End file.
